


Connor and the Young Eagle

by AngieMalon



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bittersweet, Bonding, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Healing, Internal Conflict, Loneliness, Regret
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:07:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29195034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngieMalon/pseuds/AngieMalon
Summary: It's been two years since Grand Master Haytham Kenway’s death, and things are slowly returning to normal. Connor, now alone, with no family or friends, suddenly found himself taking care of an injured young eagle.
Relationships: Haytham Kenway/Ratonhnhaké:ton | Connor, Shay Cormac/Haytham Kenway
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 

"Everything you love will probably be lost, but in the end, love will return in another way."

Franz Kafka 

New York City, New York, March 8th, 1783

Connor found it lying on the grass, in pain, an arrow had pierced through its right-wing. He carefully picked him up, it is still young, probably no more than a few months old. It must have been separated from the rest of his family when he was attacked. Looking around, Connor saw no sign of the other family members, he decided to take care of it in his place, and release it back into the wild once it recovered. With his fingers coiled around the arrow, Connor quickly pulled it out, the eagle’s body shivered at the sensation of the arrow finally leaving its body but did not make any form of protest. Connor carefully warping it inside his Assassin’s cloak, to keep it warm.  
The warm spring sun is peaking through the clouds, giving life back to this war-torn land. Connor smiled sadly as the sunlight hit his face and body, the remaining ice on the ground was mixed in with remnants from the cannonballs, blanketing it with a thick layering of ashes and debris. Connor decided to get back to his place and treat its wound before it got infected. 

Opening the door to the house, Connor walked straight into the medical room, he gently puts the eagle down on a large wooden table, and went searching for medical supplies in his cabinet. He had kept them in there just in case he needed them, and now is a good time as any. After finding what he is looking for, he returned to the table and started cleaning the wound, the eagle struggled a bit as Connor put some rubbing alcohol onto the wound, but Connor used his free hand to gently rub its back, soothing it. After cleaning it thoroughly, he puts some soothing salve onto it and wrapped bandages around it. “ There, it's finished, ” he stood back and looked at his work, feeling rather proud of himself. the eagle looked at him, and Connor could see the light in its eyes. The same light he had seen in his father's eyes, strong yet uncertain. It stirred up something inside Connor, the memories of them working together, him dying at his hand, the journal he left behind for him to read ( which he did, and he cried for good two hours after that). He reached out to pat the soft feathers, “ I will get you something to eat, stay put until I return, alright?” He smiled sadly and went to the door, closing it quietly behind him. 

After about an hour he returned, he was delighted to find that the eagle is still resting on the table. He reached into his bag and pulled out a bag of bird food, the eagle instantly reached for it, peaking it with its beak. Connor put the food on the table and walked into the kitchen to fetch some cold water. He poured out some food into a small bowl and handed both the food and water to eagle, who fed on them hungirly. Connor watched it eat, he remembered the meaning of his father’s name, Haytham Kenway, the young eagle. He reclined in his chair, maybe his father is willing to give him a second chance after all, after he had plunged the hidden blade into his throat. He had a sudden urge to hug the small bird, but he decided against, fearing that it will aggravate its injured wing. “ You are welcomed to stay with me for a while until you fully recovered.” He said, the young eagle looked at him for a moment and went back to the meal, “ you need a name, and I will give you one, ” after a moment of hesitation, Connor announced, “ I will call you Haytham.” 

After the meal, the eagle fell asleep. Connor wagered that it's the combination of the effect of food, safety and warm afternoon sun. He cleared out the table and checked to make sure that no fresh blood had sipped out of the bandage, he walked into the backyard, letting the sunlight hit him. He had visited his father’s grave, occasionally, to talk to him. He knows that it sounds silly, but he can not help it. The turmoil of emotions inside of him is simply too much to bear. He wondered if things would have turned differently if they weren't so stubborn in their beliefs, if his father really were able to achieve his dream of uniting the both sides for their common goal. But in the end, it's useless, lifetime of betrayals had rotted his ideals, leaving him a wounded husk of his former self. Why does fate has to be so cruel to them? Connor wondered. He has hated his father, for his status as the Grand Master of the Colonial Rite of the Templar Order, for witholding the information that Gorge Washington had burnt his village, for being ruthless in his killings, for not being there in his childhood; but at the same time, he couldn't deny that there is a part of him that loved his father and knowing that he was the one who rescued him from the gallows confirmed that he might have felt this way too. Sighing heavily, Connor went back into the house to fix himself some food as well.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 

New York City, New York, March 9th, 1783

Connor decided to take Haytham out for a walk, and since he can not use his right-wing yet, he will stay on his shoulder. However, Connor was glad to see that the wound has healed up nicely compared to yesterday. Years of treating injured animals paid off. Connor enjoyed having Haytham on his shoulder, although he had to admit he winced from pain occasionally because Haytham’s nails dug into his shoulder hard. 

The charred houses along the streets are been repaired, and people are slowly moving their belongings back into their homes, soon, laughters will fill the streets again. Connor can not help but feel a twinge of sadness, the ordinary citizens might be able to return to their homes, his own people were forced to move out of their land, all he thought he were protecting were lost. If only I had listened, Connor thought bitterly to himself, and sighed. He decided to visit his father again, and maybe do some hunting in the forest later on. Daffodiles are blooming alongside the street, bringing a little cheerfulness to this otherwise dull and depressing affair. Connor rounded a corner and followed the familiar path to the cemetery. 

He didn't, however, anticipate seeing Shay Patrick Cormac there, standing in front of the Grand Master’s grave; dressed in his usual Templar outfit, all his weapons are on him. He is carrying some white roses in his hand. He kept his eyes on the gravestone for a few moments before looking up at Connor, when their eyes met, Shay could see the resemblance between him and Haytham, it hurts him to realize that the young man in front of him had killed his Master. 

“ Nice to meet you, Connor Kenway, and looks like you have broght with you a little friend.” Shay managed a small smile, and nodded at the young eagle. He kneeled down and put the roses in front of the grave. It's a simple one, with Haytham’s full name, the date of his birth and his death, the famous Templar moto, and a small eagle symbole engraved on it. Shay traced the moto gently with his fingers, he remembered his Templar initiation ceremony, how he looked at the Grand Master in the eyes, and uttered this line with confidence. Signaling a new life for himself. He lived by those words, fighting alongside the Templar Order for a better cause. He had said them multiple times, proudly. But now, with the Assassin beside him single-handedly destroyed all their hard work, offing one Templar after another, Shay is the only one who is still alive. Their old home base is utterly cold, with only chipped table, cold fireplace, faded Templar banners, and rusty candle stands to fill the void. Shay didn't know about Haytham’s passing until he returned from France with the Precursor Box, he wanted to tell him that he had accomplished the mission, only to be greeted by a stone cold casket. He felt numb, he felt as if a hole was left inside of him where Haytham should be. And now, after two years, it hadn’t gotten any better, the sight of Connor and the young eagle just reminded him of his Master, and Shay felt the familiar ache tagging at his heart. 

“ I suppose that you are only here to pay tribute to your father, and don’t worry about me fighting you, I’m tired of that.” Standing back up, Shay raised his head to look at Connor in the eyes, through the stoic gaze, he can sense the fatigue seeping through. Connor shrugged, “ I’m not intended too, either. Although, I do wonder, how do you know my name?” Connor asked, his tone is even, bearing no malice. “ I read the journal Master Kenway left behind, I took it from the old home base.” Shay recalled the day he clutched the notebook tightly against his chest after obtaining it. Getting access to his Master’s past both excited and scared him, he wasn't sure if he could keep his emotions under control while reading it. As it turns out, he couldn't, he cried himself to sleep that night. 

“ Ironic isn’t it? A son bearing the eagle in his name turned out to be a Templar.” Shay laughed bitterly, “ although, had I not switched sides, I would have to hunt him down and kill him, just like you did with so many of our brethrens.” There is no bite behind Shay’s words, just stating a fact. “ Are you angry, Shay?” Connor asked, Haytham looked at Shay intently from his shoulder, but remained silent. Shay nodded, “ yes, I am.” I’m furious. At you, at the world, at fate, at this God forsaken war, at everything, even at myself. He thought, consciously clanching his fists. “ Do you know my father well?” Connor asked, reaching out gingerly to touch Shay on the shoulder. “ Yes, we worked together for a long time.” Connor nodded, “ father did not mention you anywhere in his journal, “ he said. “ He doesn't need to,” he remembered the cold nights at the Northern Atlantics, where they huddled together in bed inside the captain’s cabin, Shay would put his hand gently on the Grand Master’s chest, feeling the strong heartbeat, the assurance that he will live to see another day. He remembered his favourite books, how he liked his tea ( with half teaspoon of sugar, always), how he wished for a better world, how he wished that he would not have to fight his own son. These memories are not replaceable nor will he share them with anyone, these are the memories he will take to his grave. 

“ You might not kill me now, but you will train your children or grandchildren to fight against the new Assassins.” Connor sighed, fatigue apparent in his voice, Shay reached out to touch the top of the gravestone one last time and closed his eyes, picturing in his head, the image of Haytham Kenway, strong, confident, proud, ambitious, intelligent, beautiful, and elegant. After that, he opened his eyes again. “ anyway, I need to get going, Gist and the crew is waiting for me.” He said, but he stopped briefly to carasse Haytham’s feathers, they are soft and luscious, just like the Grand Master’s hair. “ Take good care of him, boy.” He said, and Connor nodded. 

Connor went into the forest after that. Woods calms him, and he could tell that Haytham liked it as well. He pitied that he still unable to fly. “ Wait until you’ve healed up propely, little guy.” Connor smiled and gently patted him on the back. He into his quiver to pull out an arrow and strung it onto his bow, a family of deers are grazing on a meadow not too far from him, but they ran away after seeing him with bow and arrows. Connor sighed and kept walking. The sun filtered through the leaves and the ground is soft underneath his feet. Connor took a deep breath, enjoying the fact that he get to stay away from the city for a while. His eyes soon caught sight of a hare casually grazing on a meadow, he crutched down on the grass, careful as to not make a sound. He released the arrow and it struck the hare on its neck, it stumbled and fell over into the grass. Standing up, Connor walked over to the body and picked it up by its ears. He felt Haytham move and he turned to see him shifting uncomfortably on his shoulders. “ Shhh... “ Connor reached out to sooth him, and he relaxed under his touch. Connor ended up spending majority of the afternoon in the forest, before sun down, he set up a bonfire and skined, cleaned and cooked the hare and fish he had caught that day. 

Before he made his way back, his mind drifted back to Shay, he wondered if their paths will ever cross again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Shay ( aka my second favourite Templar afet Haytham) makes me really happy, also I can not get enough of Shay and Connor meeting each other.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 

New York City, Newyork, March 10, 1783 

Connor woke up the next morning to Haytham perching on the cape.

He had retrieved his father’s cape after he died, washed it and kept it in his house. He didn't know why he bothered to have a piece of his father’s clothing with him. Probably as a memorabilia. Besides, it keeps him warm during cold nights. Smiling, Connor got off of bed and walked towards Haytham, stroking its feathers and checked his injuries. It had healed up substantially. Soon, he would be able to fly. “ Good morning, Haytham, ” he said, smiled again as Haytham leaned into his touch, making small sounds noises of contentment. Suddenly, his eyes darted around the room, looking nervous, his whole body shifted uncomfortably on the cape, as if he is trying to get away from something. Connor looked shocked and confused, he reached out to touch him but his hands stopped midway. Finally, Haytham’s eyes focused on a spot in the room, it's the doorway. “ What are you looking at? Haytham, are you alright?” Connor swallowed hard and followed his gaze to the doorway. At that moment, he could have swore that he was drunk. 

There, standing in the doorway, is the former Grand Master of the Colonial Rite, at least, his phantom self. Connor reached up and pinched his cheek, “ I’m not dreaming, am I?” He whispered, the phantom before him remained silent, his transparent eyes scanned the room and stopped at the young eagle perching on the cape; he smiled. “ F... Father?” Connor asked, voice shaking from shock and disbelief. The phantom nodded at his direction. “ How can this be? How can you barge into my room without asking first? Where are your upper class manners, father?” Connor blurred out, rubbing his temple. Well, one thing is for sure, he is neither drunk or dreaming. 

The phantom signed and opened his mouth to speak, his voice seems distant, “ I don't think a ghost needs to ask for that kind of permission, “ he said, shrugging. “ Looks like you’ve got yourself a pet, and you named him after me. How thoughtful. “ He smirked, flaoting to the bedside to get a closer look at the bird. “ Beautiful creature.” Connor nodded. “ Are you intended to scare your son to death so he can join you in the afterlife? My dearly departed father?” Frastration is clear in Connor’s voice, but he can not help but make snarky remark around the older man. “ Can’t a father visit his son, even after he had died? I’ve been watching you for some time until I finally decided to pay you a visit. “ Phantom Haytham looked at his son in the eyes and crossed his arms, he had noticed the lines on Connor’s face, if he can do anything right now, he would have pulled him into an embrace. 

“ So, how long are you planning to remain?” Connor asked, picking up the eagle and puts him onto his shoulder. “ Spirit can not remain in the world of the living for too long, or they will disappear.” Haytham dropped his arms back to his sides, cursing at the fact that he can not do anything in this state. “ I’m thinking of visiting Shay, have you met him by any chance?” Connor nodded and told him the story of their first meeting at the cemetery. “ Good, “ Haytham said and turned around, “ I’m going to the Morrigan, his ship, where you usually find him. “ As he turned to leave, Connor followed him, “ I will help explain things so that you would not scare the captain half to death.” He said as he closed the door behind him. 

Boarding a Templar ship feels strange, boarding it with a ghost version of his father is even more awkward. Still, Connor was grateful that his father had the decency of keeping his mouth shut during their small road trip, even more so that none of the crew were up in arms when they saw an Assassin on bord. A familiar figure clad in the black and red outfit is buying himself on board. Shay is doing a routine check of the canons and fuel. Connor can hear laughter, he turned his gaze and saw a man with a broad hat and black coat, he surmised that it must be Christopher Gist. Haytham’s lips pursed into a hard line, being on the ship had brought back so many memories, how he hugged Shay at night, how Shay would let Gist take care of the ship during tranquil afternoons, and make tea for him in the cabin; he always knows what kind of tea he prefered, and would add just the right amount of sugar. “ Shay...” Haytham called out, flaoting towards the captain, Connor could never forget the look on Shay’s face. He almost fell off the ship had Gist not caught him in time, his face went pale, and hands shaky. “ S... Sir, is that really you?” He stammered, didn't even bother to reach up and touch his face. Haytham nodded, ” I’m sorry, Shay.” Haytham said apologetically. Shay had calmed down a bit, but he is still unable to wrap his head around it, he is talking to a ghost, Shay was certain that he did not indulge too much on the Irish whisky the previous night. “ Believe me, I was shocked too, ” Connor interjected. Shay turned to look at him, and sighed in relief. “ Well, sir, it is fair weather today.” Shay smiled a bit and ruffled eagle Haytham’s feathers, “ it will be your first day at the sea, little one.” Connor looked at him and smiled. 

Haytham never realized how much he missed the salty scent of the ocean since his death. He is more than grateful that Shay kept him on board. He spread his arms around and felt the wind and sun on him. “ If only I had learned to sail, I would have been a captain as well, “ he turned to watch Shay on the string wheel, controling the ship with grace and dexterity. Oh, how he wished that he isn’t a spirit right now. “ A blade master and a captain will be a terrifying combination, “ Connor smirked at Haytham’s direction. “ Shay had told me that you worked together before, how could you induct a traitor to Brotherhood into the Order? Are you not worried that he will betray a second time?” Connor’s hands gripped the railing a bit harder, his stared right into his father’s eyes, quizzically. “ He knows what is the best for himself and the future, and I respect his decision.” Haytham answered, and left it at that. “ By the way, I think your little pet is eager to fly.” Haytham pointed out, Connor followed his gaze. Sure enough, eagle Haytham flapped his wings and after a moment of hesitation, took a leap of faith off of Connor’s shoulder, and spread his wings. “ Haytham, don’t stray too far away or I would not be able to catch you!!” Connor called out as the eagle gracefully flew around the cabin, laughter filled the air, and Haytham smiled silently, although he hated to admit it, he hadn’t felt this relaxed in a long time. 

That evening, after Connor had left, Haytham stayed in the capatin’s cabin for a while. His old books, tea utensils are all there, although worn from disuse. He just remained there, floating in mid air, taking in the scene, somewhere at the back of his mind, he was aware that someone had closed the door behind him. “ I kept the room as it is, ” Shay smiled, walking up to Haytham, smiling sadly. “ I’m sorry that I scared you, Shay.” I’m sorry I that I died. But Shay shook his head, “ I’d rather it be you than Liam or Hope, or any of the Colonial Assassins that I’ve killed, Haytham.” He resisted the urge to hug him, instead, he walked over to the chair beside the window and set down, while Haytham floated to the chair opposite of him, and started out at the window, just like they did so many years ago. “ I missed you, Haytham.” Shay said quietly, couldn’t contain his sadness anymore as his tears rolled down his cheek. “ I’m here, Shay, ” Haytham floated beside him and puts a transparent hand on his shoulder, providing as much comfort as he can. “ Don’t hate Connor, alright? He was just doing what he thought was right, just like you did when you decided to leave the Brotherhood.” Shay nodded silently, and relaxed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love writing about ghost Haytham reuniting with his son and Shay, I feel like this makes a great feels trip. Anyway, ghost Haytham will hang around for a while.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

New York City, New York, March 11, 1783 

Connor remembered the funeral. 

He had watched from a safe distance as to not attract any unwanted attention to himself. He remembered the large gathering. The ornate casket with the large, scarlet Templar cross on top of it. He remembered the sniffling and sobbing from the crowd. He remembered Lee’s speech. He remembered the casket being lowered, and how it, along with the Grand Master’s body, were being covered in dirt and soil. The once-powerful Grand Master is now being reduced to mere bones, the face which Connor had come to know is now gone, and being replaced by the ghost, who is now sitting on the chair, on the opposite side of the small table. Eagle Haytham was out, hunting. 

Outside Connor’s window, daffodils exploded into a sea of yellow in the garden. “ It is beautiful, ” said Haytham. The warm afternoon sun filtered through the room, making Haytham look as if he wasn't there.  
The silence stretched comfortably between them, save for the occasional laughs and remarks from Haytham. Even in this ghost state, Connor could sense how tired his father really is. Time and a life full of betrayals and pain had taken a toll on him. “ I feel like your grandfather, will be really proud of you. “ Haytham laughed humourlessly, “ he had someone to carry on the Assassin lineage, at least.” Connor paused for a second, biting down at his lower lip. The steam had since vanished without a trace, the heat is slowly dissipating from his fingers. “ If my father were alive, he would be ashamed of me, very much so.” Haytham sighed, and for a moment, Connor could see that familiar look on his father’s face, the look he gave him that day when he cut ties with him after he told him what Washington did to his village. This memory stabbed at Connor’s heart like needles, he wished that he could take it back, he wished he had listened to what his father had to say, he wished that he hadn’t been so brash. 

He took a long drink of his coffee and set the empty mug back on the table. “ I never knew you, father, ” he finally said after a long pause, “ not really, I thought I had, I thought I could read you like a book. I was wrong. It wasn't until I read the journal you left behind that I truly started to get to know you. “ Connor turned his head away from his father and settled on the cape hanging at the clothe hanger at the back of the door. “ And it's too late now, too late to tell you I misjudged you, too late to tell you, I’m sorry.” Connor's voice quivered, sounded at if he is at the brink of tears. Haytham stood up his seat and floted close to his son, wordlessly putting a hand on his shoulder. “ I’m sorry, father,” Connor said softly, trying to calm himself. 

Haytham bites his lower lip, if his father were the one who taught him to refute others’ opinions and think for himself, would his father be happy about the choices he had made in his life? During his tenure as the Grand Master of the Colonial Rite of the Templar Order, he had killed Assassins and Templars alike. But the one person he couldn't bring himself to kill was his own son. He might be his enemy, but the thought of killing his last remaining family member had left a bitter taste in his mouth. Maybe, there is still mercy left in him, a fatherly instinct that had led him to stay his blade. “ What is done is done, son. Don’t punish yourself for it.” Haytham sounded gentle and sad as he reached out and carassed Connor’s cheek with his transparent hand, trying in vain to push away some unruly strands. Connor looked up at him, confused. “ What?” Haytham asked, raising one eyebrow. “ If I recall, you distinctive said before you died that, ” Connor cleared his throat and started mimicking his father’s tone of voice. “ Don’t think I ever have the intention of carassing your cheek and say I was wrong, I will not weep, or wonder what could have been, I’m sure you understand.” Haytham rolled his eyes but didn't stop his movement. “ Well, I will eat my words I suppose, at least half of it.” He dropped his gaze onto the floor, to avoid looking at his son, but Connor just shrugged and pulled his father into a hug, he wrapped his arms around his shoulder and buried his face into his coat. Haytham sighed and returned the embrace. Letting the chriping of the birds and the sound of wind blowing through leaves fill the void. 

The moment was interrupted by eagle Haytham. He came back from his small hunting trip, and had his fill. He flew back onto Connor’s shoulder and sighed in content. He seems more comfortable in ghost Haytham’s presence. “ that day you found him, I was there, watching from afar. ” Haytham floated back to his side of the table and sat down. “ Than you for not frightening me right then and there.” Connor said as mockingly as possible, and turned on hi heels to leave, “ I’m going out.” He said as he put his hand on the doornob. “ alright, son, be careful.” Haytham smiled at Connor’s direction before turning his attention back to the window, his mind drifted to places long time ago.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

New York City, New York, March 11, 1783

He took Haytham out with him for a walk in the woods that morning, and let him fly freely in the forest for a while. After the shower yesterday, the world seems to be washed anew. He climbed onto a tree and perched onto a thick branch, breathing in the nice, cool air. He let Haytham fly freely inside the woods, watching him spread his beautiful wings, soaking in the sun's rays. Connor remembered the conversation he had with his father yesterday, they were sitting by the window as usual, with Haytham sitting on the table, with the sound of the rain filling the void, he had been fed and was grooming himself. “ He has grown, “ observed ghost Haytham, who reached out and stroked the eagle’s feathers, admiring how soft they are. “ I can see him aiding you on your missions. “ He smiled, “ just like taking care of a human child, it will come a time when he refuses to listen to what you have to say. You have to be patient with him.” Said Haytham thoughtfully. Connor raised an eyebrow, “ you sounded as if you have participated in child-rearing.” He said as he watched eagle Haytham took off from the table and landed on top of the wardrobe. 

“ I have participated at least the later part of it, have I not? Although your worldview was already shaped by someone other than me. “ Haytham smiled bitterly, his tone was filled with regret. “ “ I wished I has raised you, at least I could induct you into our fold.” Eagle Haytham watched them intently from the top of the wardrobe, the rain outside is getting harder. Connor got up from his chair to make some hot drink for himself and contemplated over his father’s words. He did not realize until it's too late, was his father’s way of spending more time with him. He loves his mother and him in his own way. He could have refused to leave when his mother told him to, he could have let him choke to death at the gallows, he could have stayed in the afterlife and not bothered to come back. Sighing heavily, Connor went back to the table with hot chocolate on hand. “ As nice as the suggestion was, I simply don't see myself as a Templar, father. “ Said Connor as he sipped on the hot chocolate, it had some chillies added to keep him warm. Eagle Haytham flew back onto Connor’s shoulder and sighed in satisfaction. “ If I were to disappear tomorrow, will you notice? “ Ghost Haytham asked, crossing his arms, his expression curious. Connor shrugged, “ probably won’t, “ he answered. Haytham smiled a bit, “ thought so.” He said. 

A sound from below the trees pulled Connor out of his train of thoughts, he looked down from where he was sitting and saw eagle Haytham fighting with a pray, it was another bird, a small bird with black spots on its wings. Haytham was patient, precise, and above all, fast. He extended his claws and caught the bird by its body, the sharp claws dug into its flesh, and after a while it stopped moving, and Haytham picked it up and flew back onto the tree, he dropped the dead bird by Connor’s feet and looked up at him proudly. “ Great job, Haytham. “ Connor smiled and stroked its feathers. As Haytham busy at work trying to dissect his catch of the day, the forest was filled with songs of various types of birds, seemingly unaffected by the incident. Connor watched him eat his first meal of the day, and chuckled as he remembered how his father will lament not being able to eat or drink in the ghostly state. He never realized how much he missed his father’s company. 

He returned to his house early afternoon, having worked up a sweat hopping across trees and hunting. He immediately noticed that something was wrong, he did not feel his father’s presence, not at first. Everything else in the house looked the same, one of the housemaids has prepared some cookies and a hot drink, and Connor can smell the delicious fragrance. However, he is certain that the familiar silhouette of his father wasn’t in that room, he shrugged it off, trying to suppress the growing concern inside him. As he sat down to take a bite of the cookie, eagle Haythan turned his head towards the doorway, then towards the opposite side of the table. “ What do your eyes see, Haytham? Can you see him?” Connor asked, Haytham remained silent and concentrated, and Connor followed his gaze. At that moment, Connor could see the familiar figure sitting in the chair, wearing that familiar smirk. Connor let out a sigh of relief, that lump in his throat was gone. “ Son, I have something to tell you. “ ghost Haytham’s tone is serious, he stood up and floted close to his son, putting a hand on his shoulder. “ I... Need to go soon, that means, today.” Connor looked at his father, “ so soon? “ He asked, a rhetorical question, but this is what his mind was able to produce. Ghost Haytham nodded, “ well, I told you before haven't I? That a spirit can not remain in the world of the living for too long, or else it will disappear. It seems that I have reached my limit.” Connor saw it now, that his father is fading, he will soon dissipate. 

Connor puts down his mug and stood up, warpping his arms around his father’s shoulder, holding him close. Eagle Haytham lowered his head. “ I... You always have a way of catching me unaware, father. “ He smiles sadly, “ I can not take back what I have already said or done, but I want you to know that I love you, regardless of the fact that we were one different sides, you are my father and I love you. Always will.” Connor could feel tears threatened to spill out, and turned his head away to dry it. “ Son, look at me, Haytham said in a serious tone, “ will we meet again? In another timeline, where we aren't Templar and Assassin?” He asked as he reached out to stroke his hair. “ Maybe, ” Connor said, sounded uncertain. “ Regardless, I’m proud of you, son. Always have and always will. I love you too. You have your little eagle with you, you are not alone.” Planting a kiss on top of Connor’s head, Haytham disappeared into thin air. Connor stood there for a long time, stairing that the empty chair before him, warm sun filtered into the room, but he can no longer see his father’s form sparkling in the sun. After he had come to his senses, he turned on his heels to leave the room, he let a maid prepare some hot bath water for him. On his way out, he planted a gentle kiss on his father’s cape. “ Farewell, father. I miss you.” He said, too quietly for anyone to hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to write some feels.

**Author's Note:**

> Finally wrote something I’ve been wanting to write for a while now.


End file.
